


Kill Your Darlings

by gelukstraan



Category: American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Character Death, Death, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Killing, Light Smut, Mentions of Suicide, Murder, Oral, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut, Teenagers, open end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-14 07:43:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16488488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gelukstraan/pseuds/gelukstraan
Summary: Killing your darlings, leave it behind to go forward. I guess that was the reason why I was killed in the first place. Was I just a darling to get rid of? A card to be sacrificed for the greater good, or was it something more.





	1. preface

**Author's Note:**

> I was a bit scared to post this, because i usually dont really write this kind of stuff. English is not my first language, if there are mistakes they're all mine.

Kill your darlings. Kill what makes you lose progress, kill what doesn’t fit in the script. Kill the favorite parts within you. Be raw, be rough, and be unpolished. Be everything you never wanted to be, never thought you could be. Kill all of it, get rid of it. Kill the image you like people to see.  
Cut everyone off, get everything out.

Killing the things most loved is not only applied to writing. At first I did not fully understand the phrase. Why would you get rid of something that is so precious to you? Beloved ones are there to make the lives of mortals more bearable. That’s why losing a beloved one to death feels so numbing. Why kill off a connection what makes you feel all sort of things?

Killing your darlings, leave it behind to go forward. I guess that was the reason why I was killed in the first place. Was I just a darling to get rid of? A card to be sacrificed for the greater good or was it something more. 

I remember dying very well. I remember the bloodshot blue eyes, the tears on his cheeks. His whispering, something about killing you darlings. I remember crying myself, blood dripping out of my eyes. My death was more ritual then the others. Blood out of my nose, blood over my lips. I was a darling, the most beloved of them all. It felt so warm and cold at the same time. His lips hovering over my lips for one last time. I wanted to spit in his face, wanted to pull his hair out. I wanted him to kiss me, I wanted to kiss his tears away. 

Dying felt bittersweet. I was not ready to give up on life, but I also knew it would hurt him. If it was hell where I ended up it felt like heaven. But if it was supposed to be heaven it felt like hell. I killed him every day there. And in so many ways also. Some erotic, some animalistic. The place after death got the worst and the best of me. Sometimes it was if we lived a full life together. Me killing him out of duty, a gun against his head.  
Sometimes it was out of spite. He did not kill me in real life, never liked to get his hands dirty. So I killed him myself with bare hands. Watch how his head turned blue, squeezing the life out of him. My hands wrapped around his pretty throat, always crying after the deed. 

Having his naked body beneath me in a bathtub in a random hotel. Grinding on him, building up the release I need so much but what never seems to come. The moaning almost sound like the moans the real one used to make. But he is not the real one, never will be and I will never see the real one again. And just before the climax, I slit his throat. Blood spatting all over me, dripping from my breast, coloring my face red. Licking my bloodstained fingers, as if my release could be in the tasteless red liquid. 

I am all red today. The faces in this world are all blurred. My lips red, my lingerie red. Walking through a faceless city I don’t really recognize. There is no time in here, but this time it takes me longer to find him than usual. I know exactly where I am, where I was send. Is it hell or is it heaven. Him being here feels like heaven, but the sins are sins I never dared to pull off in real life. Maybe I am also killing my darlings in here. The darling that used to be me. 

Cars ride straight through me. I can’t die more than I already did. In the beginning I tried to kill myself twice. Jumping in front of a car the first time I saw him here. Jumping from the high building were l I killed him for the first time. It felt like dreaming sometimes, being here. 

But it was so silent, no sounds from the cars, no sounds from the faceless people around me. No music, nothing. The only thing other than me that made a sound was him when I fucked and killed him. 

Laying fully clothed next to his naked body. I just shot a bullet through his head. The white sheets slowly turning dark red. I haven’t left this hotel in a while now, watching how his body resurrected had been too entertaining for me to leave. Stroking his blonde hair out of his face, it had grown longer. My golden boy, my angel in disguise of something so dark. 

“It’s been long enough, don’t you agree?” A blonde woman stood beside the bed. I hadn’t heard her coming in. Cold swept over me, the cold feeling of fear. “Did you kill him?” She nodded to the golden boy next to me. “Why are you here?” It felt weird to hear another voice than mine or Michaels. The woman smiled, ignoring my question. “Did you shoot him?” Eyebrows raised. I am fully clothed but still she makes me feel as if I am naked. “Yes.” I whisper.  
“In that case I am here to save you. My name is Cordelia Goode and I am the supreme.” She held her hand out for me to take it. I hesitated, “Did Michael send you here?”  
This made her laugh. “Oh no, my darling, I am here because I need you to take him down.” 

Outpost three, the color purple ruling my life. I wish I was a grey, wish to disappear into the mass like I would in another life. My hand wrapped around the small wrist of Wilhemina Venable. “You deserve all the respect, you kept us save for so long.” Her face coming closer to my face. The cruel and cold demeanor gone for once. She is so keen on compliments, she craves my warmth so much. She reminds me of him. He also wanted to be loved, craved loving touches.  
The beginning of a smile playing on her lips. “Your behavior in here has been so good, I think you deserve a gift.”  
Pretending to not know what she was talking about I leaned into her, my fingers stretching further up her arm. “Being here is a gift itself.” My sweet words got answered with a rare smile from the strict woman. “Have some wine, I know you’re a bad sleeper. Maybe this will lure you into sleep faster.” Pulling away from my grip, reaching out to a cup. It is getting harder to pretend to be grateful. I don’t want to sleep, ever since coming back the nightmares haunted me. I took the cup with grace anyway. “You’re too kind.” 

It was always dark inside, it always felt like night. I hated being alive, it felt like being a card again. Passed between the real two players of the game. Just a pawn, an unexpected pawn, but a pawn nonetheless. When the alarms went off, I knew what was about to come. Lying beneath the thick dark sheets, I thought about sunlight. I rather die, wished I stayed in my little hell or heaven. It all felt like a dream there, but dreams are saver than what is about to come. 

Blue eyes so cold but yet so kind. The colors surrounding us are green and white, it is not a room where we are in. It is more a place of the mind. I don’t really know which mind we’re in, but it feels peaceful. I never really could dance, but in my dreams I can. He knows exactly where to put his hands, how to move his feet. Twirling around in this peaceful place, no darkness left in the both of us. This is what I always had wanted for us. To dance around as if it was our first dance. I wished for a normal life, wished for a family with children with his blonde hair, but my eye color. Wished for a dog, long walks at a beach. Living near the ocean, no worries but what to eat for dinner. His smile is so bright, bringing back the youth to his face. His hands on my hips, whispering something naughty I can’t really comprehend. 

I wake up crying for everything that could have been, wake up crying for everything I ever longed for. Crying out of relieve, for finally having a dream and not a nightmare, crying out of sadness because it will never be true. 

“Don’t you miss me?” His grip on my hand is very strong, afraid that I would let go and wander off again. “I can’t find you, I can’t reach you.” He is crying, crying so much in my dreams. I want to believe the tears are real, but I can’t. There is something desperate in the way he is clawing at me. “It’s your own fault, you will never see me again.” I pull my hand out of his grip, running away. It feels like running through water, my face is getting wet. His screaming echoing in my brain. Everything is red, everything is bloody. Blood coming out of my nose, blood coming out of my eyes. It feels like dying all over again. He is there again, watching me bleed. “It’s all your fault, it’s all your fault. You will never see me again. You took all the light out of me, you will never see me again.” 

When I wake up there is blood on my pillow. There is blood on my hands. Tumbling out of the warm wet bed, all I see is red. Opening the door to the small bathroom I turn on the shower. Washing all the blood away, I feel so cold, I feel so alone. It was never his fault, how I turned out to be. It was all me. Shivering, lying on the old tiles that cover the bathroom floor. My underdress is completely ruined. Blood still in drips upon the floor, smeared out where I walked. I still hear him screaming, still hear his sobs. I can’t breathe, trying to hold back the tears, feeling the burning sensation in my throat. A choked sound is the only thing that escapes me. I have to be strong, have to be aware of every move I make. I can’t give up now. 

His hair is past his shoulders now, but he is still as beautiful as ever. I stay hidden behind Mr. Gallant, looking down as if I am shocked by the things he tells us. The only emotion I feel is the fear of getting caught before I catch him. And it went quit well, until Gallant screamed his words. “I volunteer to go first.” All the attention went immediately to the men next to me. Hiding was not an option any more, damn this horny bastard. I lean forward, to give Gallant an encouraging smile, as if I liked what he did. And in the split second it took, I knew he saw me and recognized me. Looking up, finding his eyes already staring at me, I only remember all the ways I had killed him and all the ways I had loved him even more.


	2. Sweetener

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little sweetener. I wrote so much that I decided to split it up. There will be another chapter like this. 
> 
> They're both younger here. It is before Michael went to the AHS version of Hogwarts.

Three spoons of sugar in the black tea Miss Mead served. Liking it sweet when the tea is set too strongly. Always having been so. White lace, pink lipstick and a rosy blush covering my cheeks. I always liked it sweet, my tea, my wardrobe, my make-up and pretty much everything else in life. Trying to live the Disney life, living for the good girl image. Such a strong contrast with the neighbors. My parents accepted it all. The good and the bad and the grey. No one in the neighborhood really liked the woman whose favorite color seemed to be black. But my parents did, I never really knew why though. 

I thought she was okay, she would act very kind every time I was around, but beneath the kind smiles seemed to lurk something dark. Something as bitter as the too strong black tea she served. Pouring too much sugar in it helped, just as pouring sweet words helps with bitter people. Everyone needs a little sweetener in their lives sometimes and I always thought it was my job to be the sweetener for them who liked it best bitter. 

“Child, too much sugar isn’t good for your teeth, do you want them to rot away?” My mom gripped my hand when I wanted to poor another spoon of sugar in the tea. “Let the child be, my Michael also likes it sweet.” A fond smile on her black lips, lighting up her eyes. It seemed like she really cared for the boy she recently adopted. My mom had also smiled. “Where is your darling son, Miriam?” The look they shared contained some unspoken words. “Off to buy some groceries.”  
Trying to ignore the questions that their odd behavior sparked, I reach for a scone. They already started to dry from being exposed to air for too long. But my mother added extra strawberry jam on the scones for the dry taste to go away. Michael seemed to be as odd as his adoptive mother, there was something about him that had wanted me to run. Run from him but also towards him. I only met him twice, both times him being very polite. I think he sees me as too sweet, too bubblegum pop, something too pink in his black world. He seems like the type that would be the antagonist in the romantic movies I like so much. Or maybe the dark prince with a lighter side, meant only to be seen by his one true love. His princess would probably be as dark as him, always having his back. His hands would be rough, long fingers wrapped roughly around her wrist. Rough hands, but soft lips. Soft lips on her collarbone, leaving kisses that makes her beg for more. Soft blonde curls, my hands gripping it when his kisses go lower and lower. An ache building up in my stomach, his mouth almost there where I want it the most. 

“Hey! Hey, missy! You’re making a mess of your dress!” My mother pulls the scone out of my hand. I was so lost in my fantasy I spilled some strawberry jam upon the white dress I am wearing. “Oh fuck, I must have been lost in thought.” I feel my face heating up, I must be just as red as the jam smeared all over my dress. Mead already got a wet towel for me to clean the mess a bit up. Still embarrassed I start rubbing over the red stains. It’s a good thing my mother and Mead aren’t mind readers. I feel the heat slowly fading away, but the ache between my legs is still there. “I have to go the toilet.” 

Wiping the wetness away with toilet paper I try to get my thoughts everywhere but the fantasy I just had. How could I allow myself to have thoughts like that in front of my mother and neighbor? I should feel ashamed, but I only feel disappointed for the fantasy probably will never be true. I am not the dark princess, not the type he would like. 

When I come back to the table there are three instead of two waiting for me. Michael just getting a cup of tea from his mother. Just the sight of him seeing there makes my skin turn hot. Mentally being mad at myself for blushing so fast, I sit next to mother again. Trying not to watch how his hand reaches for the sugar, trying not to stare at his fingers. He pours more sugar then me in his tea. Making Miriam chuckle. “See, Michael even uses more sugar then you do.” His blue eyes are amused, the beginning of a smile playing on his mouth. “I like it better when things are sweet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter contains a bit smut.


	3. sweetener

His touches are sweet and soft. Not really knowing what to do with his hands, hesitating at first, but growing bolder with time. Planting a kiss in the crook of his neck. Letting my tongue slip out, tasting him. Even his skin is sweet, everything he does is so sweet. From the way his hands had cupped my face before our first kiss to the way he holds my hand if we go out.   
It had been three weeks since I asked him out. Finding delight in the way we both had liked our tea sweet. I remember jokingly telling him we should try out the new teahouse, never thinking he would take it seriously. I remember the shy look in his eyes and the blush that had crept on his face when he said, “Yeah let’s go.” 

I was dressed as a schoolgirl, he was wearing as usual something black. His hair styled for once, it made him look older. But he also looked very handsome like this. “As what are you dressed?”   
I looked him up and down, eyebrows raised. “I’m a vampire.” “Like Edward Cullen?”  
Where at first he looked sort of proud, he now looked annoyed. “You ruined it, I’m not coming anymore.” One of my classmates was throwing a party for Halloween, and after much pleading, hugging and kisses Michael agreed to join me. I snake my arms around his waist. “But it would be boring without you.” Laughing softly he plants a soft kiss on the top of my head. “And besides, everyone will be jealous when I show up with a sparkling vampire.” A groan is his answer, but he hugs me back. “Aren’t you two the sweetest couple ever.” Mead her voice breaks our hug. A smile on both our lips. “As sweet as sugar.” Michael agrees. 

I am a bit drunk from the punch, dancing way too wild with everyone at the party. Laughing at everything, thinking everyone is nice. I see Michael talking with a girl, I don’t mind. I am happy he is socializing, happy he is tasting the life what is normal to me. He deserves bright colors, deserves to live in something other than black. I run towards him, hugging him from behind. Grabbing his hand when I stand beside him. “What do you think of Michael his costume, Abby? Doesn’t it scream sparkling vampire?” Michael rolls his eyes, Abby laughs. “You two are so disgustingly sweet together.” 

We’re dancing together, the alcohol wearing off, and with that my energy. I should have been home three hours ago, but I don’t care for curfews when a party is so much fun. “Let’s go home, you can sleep at my place. We’ll tell your parents tomorrow we fell asleep or something.” Hands stroking hair out of my face. “You really are the sweetest.” 

There was nothing sweet about the way he climbed on top of me, nothing sweet in the way how he looked at me. And maybe for the first time in my life I did not want it sweet. Craving something much heavier in taste. If our love had been the color pink, it was now transforming to purple, to something much more intense. His skin feels so hot against me, the parts where his skin touches my skin feel so good. I need to feel him everywhere. It as if he exactly know what I want, wiggling himself out his pants, bare legs against bare legs finally. He’s kissing me, my cheeks, the top of my nose, my chin and then finally my lips. Slipping his tongue in, he still tastes like the punch we had at the party. My hands in his hair, making it messy again. Scraping his scalp with my nails, the ache is getting hotter. He is rubbing against me, but it is not enough. I pull my legs around his waist, needing him closer. The plaid skirt had gone all the way up, exposing the underwear I was wearing. His hands find a way into the white blouse I am wearing, popping the buttons open in the process. Left hand resting on my right breast, fingers digging softly into the flesh. The kisses become sloppier, both needing to breathe but not wanting to stop the kissing. I pull off the blouse, needing more action. His hands go to my back, unclasping the bra. Throwing it beside the bed, for it to land on the wooden floor. Both his hands going for my breast now, actions rougher than before. His kisses in my neck, sucking bruises upon the sensitive skin. With every moan I give him he gifts me with another kiss. His tongue leaving a trail in the valley between my breasts, slowly going down, until he stops. Soft blonde locks touching my stomach, the feeling of him there giving me butterflies. A small giggle escaping me, blue soft eyes looking up. It might be the alcohol, but I never felt so in love with him as in this moment. “Michael Langdon, come back here and kiss me.” And like the sweet boy he is, he obeys. 

He is so eager to please, so willing to give everything. And I want to please him, want him to have everything he desires. So when he asks if it is okay, I whisper that it is. Going slow at first, we both need to get used to each other. It is a dull ache and it feels weird to be this full. His eyes are closed, my fingers stretch out to touch his face. I want to see his emotions, the emotions that are always so clear in his eyes. I move my hips up, he is fully in me now. Eyes snapping open, finally looking at me. “I love you.” I tell him, “I love you unconditionally.” He starts moving, blue eyes filled with something I don’t really understand. “I love you too.”   
Skin slapping against skin, the sound harder with each thrust. Breathing uneven, release building up slow, both our moans escaping in the night. And when I come undone, he comes undone. My fist full of his hair, his weight falling on top of me. I don’t want him to move, like the feeling of him on top of him, like the weight. And with him holding on to me, with him whispering sweet nothings in my ear, it is all I need to be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly building up to the angst.


	4. off to the races

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael disappears, until he gets found again.  
> Things are getting less sweet, changes are happening.

“You’re too wild.” It had been three months since Michael disappeared to some school. Three months of me stalking Mead. Every morning I knocked on her front door. Where is he, where is Michael. Always the same question, never an answer. He would come back, she told me the first time. I think she did it on purpose, send him away. It was as if the woman had a plan for him. Or he had a plan for them. Although we had been together for a while, they never truly shared what happened when I was not there. Our relationship simply did not work that way. We only spoke of things that had nothing to do with our family. Only speaking of the future and some shared dreams. It felt like Ms. Mead did not like me, calling me often a distraction and then playing it off as a joke. She wasn’t the only one acting weird, with each passing day my parents got more restless. Urging me to leave Mead alone, urging me to forget about Michael. Late at night when they thought I was asleep, I saw them leaving the house. I saw fire burning in the neighbors’ garden. Sometimes it sounded like animals being killed. Sometimes it sounded like human screaming. I did not question them, starting to leave the house for the nights as well. I had evolved in the last year, getting more intense. If this was due to my relationship with Michael, or due to the fact I was just growing up, was the big question. I still liked laces, bubblegum and blushing. If I were a taste I would be cinnamon. Sweet but still a spice to the flavor. I liked the nights best when they are long, stumbling in the living room around breakfast time. Ignoring every question they asked me about my whereabouts, they didn’t answer my questions either. 

High on booze and weed we walked around the neighborhood. Smoking and drinking from almost empty bottles. I was a mess, a mess without Michael here around to argue with. I had too much control over him, and he had too much control over me. He never liked it when I partied, never liked it when I got drunk. I didn’t like his uptightness, always talking about some purpose shit. Life is better without a purpose, better without a goal, you need to stress about every day.\  
It is better to just enjoy the little things, to let go. I always told him it was more important what he wanted, fuck them who tell him what to do. Fuck them all. And then fuck me. God I miss him so much. I miss his childlike behavior, the way how a fire starts in his eyes when we argue. I miss the way he smiles after I tease him, miss the way how makes me smile. I miss the way I could talk with him about everything and the way he loves me so good. I miss the way he makes me scream and beg for more and I miss the way how he always leans in first. Eager for my touch, eager for my mind and eager for my love. It had only be three months without him, but I was such a mess. And that’s why I didn’t think twice about following Meads car when she leaves in the night. Still a bit high, still a bit emotional. But I am not alone, never am with him on my mind. 

 

We lost her, driving too fast for us to keep up. “Did you bring the booze?” A frat boy askes Abby. I answer for her, “Yeah and also some weed.” He tells us he knows a place where we can smoke and drink and won’t be found. 

It is so dark, and everything is hazy. I drank too much, I am so wasted. In my mind I am walking straight, but my feet don’t go where I want them to go. Falling down, tumbling over some roots. I have no idea where I am. Things got a bit too sexual back where we were drinking, so I decided to take a walk. Feeling leaves beneath me, something sharp scratching my bare legs. A giggle escaping me. If Michael was here he would be so mad. Or maybe he would also be drunk and we’d be lying here together. The stars are brighter now I am outside the city. It would be nice to disappear between them. Living the rest of my life as a star, far away from everything here.

I hear them walking, two pair of boots crushing the leaves. It is too dark for them to see me, but I can hear them. I am still drunk, but a bit more aware of the situation. I could not see their faces, but I will always recognize the way Mead walks. 

A tall blonde boy hugs her, it makes me feel sick in my stomach. I hate her, hate her for hiding Michael away from me. I hear his voice, I can’t think straight, the alcohol is making me impulsive. I jump straight towards the small woman, pushing her down to the ground. “You fucking bitch, you fucking liar.” My nails are trying to scratch her face open, but I get pulled away from her. Long slender fingers around my wrist, the mist clouding my sight is suddenly gone. “Stop it, calm down.” His voice too loud, too cold. I am immediately sober. I pull my hands out of his grip, turning around to look at his face. He looks older, his hair is not as messy as it used to be. He is so perfectly styled that it feels as if I am looking at a stranger. Everything is different, everything has changed in the past three months. Everything but his eyes and the look in them. “Michael.” I sob, leaning into him, pulling him closer. My head against his shoulder, smelling him. His hand on my back, tracing lazy figures. He whispers my name over and over again, as if he can’t believe I am here. “I finally found you.” Words only he can hear, planting a kiss on his neck. I hope that the two persons watching us feel awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is smut again lol


	5. loft music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinda smutty. Building up towards the end.

And it is as if everything had changed. Me destroying my good girl image, drinking and smoking, failing school, burning everything sweet in my life. He looks so different, I think he is different. But the love we share seems unchanged. He speaks with other words now, the tone of his voice more dominating. He has more confidence, it is in everything he does. The way he walks, the way he talks and the way he loves me. I always was the dominating one in the relationship. Me being more outgoing, me being the extraverted one. I don’t mind this new found version of him. I don’t need to be the boss all the time, but I never liked to be dominated. I see how he dominates everyone else. I see how they all want to follow him, either being too scared to say no, or too intrigued to walk away. But he does not really dominate me, not with words anyway. 

He tells me a bit about his powers, supposedly he is a warlock. He tells me about how his adoptive mother is a Satanist. At first I am a bit mad, for him keeping so many secrets, but when I see the nervous look in his eyes I stop the rant I want to start. He was just afraid, afraid for rejection. He did not say it out loud, did not need to do it. “I will never reject you, my darling, I love you for everything you are.” His eyes are a still filled with water, a nervous look on his face. “There is one thing I need to tell you, promise me you won’t run away?” We’re face to face, me sitting on his lap, straddling his legs with my own. “You promised me no secrets.” He takes a deep breath, looking at the wall where a cross is hanging upside down. “They, Mead and others, believe I will bring the end of the world.” I don’t really know what to think, I can’t really believe it. How can someone like him destroy everything, how can someone like him be tied up in all of this. Staring in his blue eyes, searching for something I can’t find. He believes it too, how can he believe them? How can he believe is the bringer of all evil, of all that is unholy?  
My hands cupping his face, leaning in closer. “I am evil, don’t you understand? The devil is my father.” I laugh, still holding his face. My hands finding a way into his hair. “The only thing that is evil, is that they care for you because they think you are.”  
He does not understand my words, or maybe he does, but he does not want to understand what I mean with them. It is easier sometimes to pretend everything is okay. That there is no harm in the way people treat you as if you’re just a mean to an end.  
“I guess I’ll just love you until the end of time then.” My hands going down to hold his neck, softly stroking his soft skin there. The sadness is gone, instead there is something wicked in his eyes. “And I love you, even in the beyond.” Hands slipping underneath my sweater, hot skin against hot skin. He pulls me closer, his face pressing against my breast. I straddle him against the couch, looking out of the window to see Ms. Mead walking towards her car, off to do some groceries. I let him hold on to me, needing him close as well. Brows furrowed, reminding the awkward glances she and the warlock shared when they saw me kissing him in his neck. The vulnerability on Michaels face. I saw it, they saw it, and the only one who did not notice was Michael himself.  
It would be good to see her look like that again. The ultimate fuck you towards her. I loved Michael before I knew who he was, and I loved him after. And him hugging me like that, with her blood still under my nails, they knew I was the one in control. 

He is almost fully naked, only wearing his underwear. I still am wearing my sweater, but everything else is off. I am still on his lap, his hand between my legs. Slowly stroking, teasing me, feeling me. Planting kisses on his shoulders, my hands are on his back, feeling his tense muscles under my soft touch. Finally he pushes one finger inside me, a second one follows soon after. Feeling me, searching for a reaction with every twist he does. His thumb making circling movements. I have to keep myself steady, gripping his shoulders way too hard. Nails pressing into flesh. He likes it when I hurt him, a moan escaping him. I missed this, missed him. My hand reaches between his legs, massaging the bulge through the fabric of his grey boxer. Feeling something building up inside me, but it’s not time yet. He is going faster with his fingers, but I don’t want to come yet. “Stop it, baby, not yet, I want to come when you’re in me.” Breathless, my eyes almost rolling back from the pleasure he gives me so well. I hear a car pull up, I can’t stop the grin that is spreading on my face. I pull his boxers down, when he brings his wet fingers to his mouth to suck them clean. The sight of him doing that almost makes my legs feel numb, the obscure sound that follows when he takes his fingers out of his mouth almost makes me come. I’m sitting up, grabbing him and guiding him inside of me. I go slow, too slow for his liking. But I want us to suffer, want us to remember what we have. When he is fully inside me, we both let out a breathe. “I really missed you.” His voice is soft, afraid anyone will hear this side of him. Rising up, I say, my voice loud, “Wat did you say?”  
“I missed you.” Louder this time, going down again. His moans are getting louder when I set the pace faster. Feeling the release building up, he is watching me, head against the couch. “What are you, Michael?” His hands on my hips, I feel he’s almost there also. “Yours.”  
“Yours” He repeats, taking control of the position. A door slaps open, but we both don’t pay attention to it. Too busy with each other. “Yours.” It’s more a moan then a word. Ears are buzzing, I want to close my eyes, but I can’t. I come before him, and the sight of me coming is enough for him to be taken over the edge. Eyes fluttering shut, curses coming from his mouth. Some in a language I never learned. I kiss him, feeling the last waves of the orgasm wearing off.  
“What the fuck is happening here.” Meads voice sounds angry. Turning myself around, watching her face filled with disgust and concern. “What do you think it looks like, Madame Mead?” A satisfied smile on my face. “I just fucked your devil-boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	6. loft music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a filler.

“This needs to stop, your behavior is getting out of hand.” The lights in the room are dimmed, the brightest thing in the room is the television. Sound muted for the conversation my parents wanted to have. I pour some sugar in the cup of tea in front of me. Not looking up, not giving them an answer. Instead I ask them a question. “You guys are Satanist, aren’t you?” They both look shocked. My father dropping the spoon in his coffee mug, my mother her hand against her mouth. “It all makes sense, actually, why else would you visit the neighbor at night? At first I thought it was something like a swinger club thing, but now I know the truth, that seems unlikely. I should have known though, because who would fuck that ugly woman from next door?” Taking a sip of the sweet tea, watching how my words unfold. I expect my mother to speak first, but it’s my father instead. “Don’t talk about Ms. Mead that way, we won’t accept it any more. You being a drunk mess since Michael left was embarrassing enough to endure.” I cock my eyebrow. “Why did you allow me to see Michael in the first place anyway? Or did Ms. Mead not tell you he is all evil and stuff?”   
“Oh we knew, but we didn’t thought you would be such a distraction for him. Too sweet, too pink, you never cared about the darkness. You wouldn’t fit in.” Mother is glaring, her face is turning red from the anger. “You won’t see him again, you’ll won’t be a distraction anymore.” My parents share a look, as if they have the control here. I stand up, looking at the both of them. As if they can say what I can’t and can do. They can’t stop me, won’t stop me if I leave. I will get Michael, leave with him. It might take some time to persuade him, but he does not need these people to fulfill his destiny, we can work it out together. He does not need to be evil, does not need to do this. Or if he is so certain he does need to it, I can help him also. 

Getting our tea to go, we decided to take a walk in the park. I had texted him to meet me at the teahouse were we had our first date. I need to persuade him, need him to leave it all behind with me. Autumn is finally coming, the paths of the park are covered with golden brown leaves, crunching nicely under my boots. “Let’s sit for a bit.” I nod towards the wooden bench. For a while we say nothing, just enjoying each other’s company, the colors and smell of fall around us. Watching the people walk by, each of them with problems of their own. “My parents were mad at me.” I start, facing him. He is still watching the people who walk by, so I continue. “Mead talked with them, they think I am a bad influence.” His gaze turned away from the path. “They are just concerned, parents never like it when their children grow up.”   
I shake my head, wondering about how his thoughts could be this innocent sometimes. “No, it is not that. I want to get away from them, need to run away from them.” He looks shocked. “Are you going to leave me behind?” He is reaching out for my hand, I take his. “No, I want you to go with me.” I lean in closer, trying to look as persuasive as I can. “I need you with me, Michael.”   
“I can’t leave my mother, and I can’t leave my destiny.” The look he gives me, let me know enough. I feel sad, I won’t try too hard. If he wants something, he will do it. So the only thing I say, trying to hide the sadness I feel, “You only need to do what you want to do, Michael.” 

That evening I am watching towards the garden of the neighbors, fire burning again. My parents are there again, I don’t trust them anymore. It feels like something is building up, but I am not sure what it is. When they went out I searched for my passport, tucking it away in a bag I prepared. I did not put too much in the bag, only some clothes and underwear. Money was more important. Like the dumbasses they are the save code was triple six. There was enough cash in the save for me to survive for about three months. I did not plan to stay here, it was saver to fly overseas. Maybe I’d travel to Europe, and when the time was right, I would contact Michael. He would not hurt me, I was sure of it. But the same couldn’t be said for my parents and Ms. Mead.   
The fire had burned out, the garden dark again. I am not sure if I should tell Michael goodbye, he wouldn’t let me go. No I won’t message him until I am save and sound. Far away from this hell.

The next morning I come downstairs, the backpack hanging form my right shoulder. “Don’t you want some breakfast?” Looking up from the newspaper my mother looks at the empty plate set for me. I hesitate at first, but I don’t want everything to seem out of the ordinary. “Yeah ofcourse, just some tea for me.”   
As usual I pour too much sugar in the tea, taking a small sip. “Anything interesting happened yesterday? You didn’t say much when you came back from your walk in the park.” I sit back, starting to feel uncomfortable. “No… it was okay…” My head is feeling heavy, my eyelids wanting to close. “How…did you know I was at the park?” I am so tired, three of my fathers speak back. “We know everything.” It feels as if I am about to fall, trying to stand up, throwing the tea cup on the floor. The porcelain breaking into four pieces. “The tea…” The floor gets closer, feeling my head hit the floor. “No, the sugar, darling. I always told you too much sugar will kill you.”   
Their laugh is the last thing I hear before I drift off. 

I am not sure if I am hallucinating or if it’s real. Tied up against something hard, everything is blurred expect for the voices. Feeling something warm drip over my face, people whispering in Latin. The same words all over again, I don’t understand them. My breathing is getting heavier, panic flowing over me. There are people around me, and they all wear his face. “Michael, what are you doing.” I start to cry, panicked. All of the Michael’s ignore me, expect one. This one is crying, blue eyes red from them. “You’re holding him back.”   
A knife against my throat, the water that is pouring from my eyes turns into blood. I don’t know what is real and what is fake. Maybe it is all real. His face hovering above me. “Darlings need to be killed…” It is not his voice, but is his face. The knife is cold, so cold against my hot skin. It slits fast, I only feel the pain of the knife sinking in my skin. The move is fast, merciful even. I only feel pain for a couple seconds, and then there is nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol this story almost feels like the season, because i mostly only write flashbacks. Next chapter will be building up a bit more, for then to continue where I left.


	7. evol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in heaven/hell, back in outpost 3. A bit smut in the beginning.

My hands are on his ass, rough animalistic movements, moans escaping us both. It does feel good, but it also feels fake. It is as filling as candy, only for a moment the hunger will go away. And I can’t find release. This might be my punishment. Being stuck in a world what looks so much like the one I left behind, but is nothing like it. Feeling numb all the time, numb until I find him again. We’re in an expensive hotel room, white sheets beneath us. I feel the release building, but it never truly comes. This might be my punishment, to be with him in all the ways I want to, but never feeling anything. Only when I kill him I feel something. He can come undone, and I let him this time. Spilling inside me, it feels so real, but it is all fake. I allow him to enjoy this, watching him get comfortable next to me. “Why did you leave me?” He asks. The question confuses me. This Michael never asks questions, he only tells me he loves me and misses me. I get the gun which had been lying on the nightstand, and point it at his head. “You’re the one who left me.” And I shoot.   
When I come back from the shower, fully clothed now, he is still there. If it weren’t for the blood and the obvious hole in head it would look like if he was sleeping. Sitting on the bed, watching his face. It is so easy to get lost in him, so easy to pretend it was really him. A golden boy, almost an angel. 

I take her hand, not really knowing why I agreed to come. It only takes a moment of darkness for us to come back. She is still holding my hand, I am glad she does. I feel unsteady, as if I could fall over any moment. “It’s okay, you’re save now.” The room we’re standing in is filled with portraits of women. “Where are we?” A smile appearing on her thin lips. “New Orleans.” 

In the evening we sit together with another witch. A woman with beautiful wild red hair and my savior. “Who killed you, my dear?” They both look concerned. “Michael did, and my parents, and Miriam Mead.” A girl comes in with tea. Placing it on the table and disappearing again after. Myrtle reaches for the pot, as Cordelia starts to speak. “Mead is death. We burned her.” I take the tea. “Good.” I have no sympathy towards. “That must have been hard for Michael.” I remark, as I take a sip from the tea. It is unsweetened, sweetness is not something I prefer in my second life. “Tell me about Michael, tell me about your relationship with him.” So I tell her all, everything I know, everything that happened. I tell them everything, everything but all the ways I loved and still love him so much.   
“Do you still love him?” Cordelia asks after. At first I want to lie, but on second thought it is not something I could probably hide from the supreme. “Yes, but you don’t have hate someone to take them down.” This seems to satisfy the two witches. “Then listen closely, I will tell you exactly what to do…” 

“You really are a sweetener in this awful bitter place.” Clinking glasses with a purple clothed Venable. The red wine we are drinking is sweet. “I really don’t understand how you put up with those men.” I sigh, leaning back into the backseat. She smiles, always falling for the traps I set up for her. It is so easy so please people sometimes. “It’s a gift.” I look outside, we’re getting closer to the outpost. “I am so glad I got to work with you these past few months.” I tell the woman next to me, giving her a genuine smile. “It is truly an honor to be under your command there.”   
Ofcourse I was a purple, I had made sure of that. Finding a fault in the system, putting my name under false donations. People are so easy to trick when you know it all. 

It is easy to blend it, easy to overcome the boredom. I was used to feeling numb after all. Used to being the only one in my world. Often I wonder if it’s worth it. If he will come here. But Mead is here, and he will search for her. I was surprised to see her here at first. Venable not noticing my distress whispered she was a robot. It all made sense after that, for she did not recognize me. He will come for her, and then I will come for him. It was easy to be liked by them. Easy to be the sweet girl I once was. Maybe that was what my new punishment had become. To fool them all, to never make a real connection again. Maybe it was better to die again, at least I had him there, the fakeness I could overcome.   
The dress I wear is more lilac than purple, laced up tight, making my breast appear bigger. There is a weird atmosphere at the table. Emily looks pale, as if she was scared by something. When dinner is served I understand why. There are snakes in the soup. When they come alive I am not sure if I am scared because of them, or because I know what this means. 

He could be so dramatic, that never seems to change. From the way how he was annoyed that I compared him with Edward Cullen to the way he had let me fuck him in front of Ms. Mead. And now, him standing here in front of all of us. Playing the game he likes so much, the only thing that seems to shock him is me being here. Our eyes finding each other only for a split second, the mask slipping off ever slightly. “And so you shall.” He tells Gallant. A secret smile on my face when I lay my hand on top of Gallants leg. Watching Michael walk away, letting my hand wander to Gallants knee, squeezing it lightly. “He has really nice hair, do you think they have conditioner in his save haven?” Gallant laughs hard at my words, putting his hand on top of mine. “I guess one of us will find out soon enough.”


	8. evol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again, interaction with Michael

The blood in my bed had dried up, leaving the sheets with brownish stains. I hadn’t allow any of the greys in my room. Not wanting to start the whispers among them. It had to seem to everyone there was nothing wrong. Fitting in with the rest of them, greedy for the life he promised. As if everyone was really living here. We all died when the end began. Our time here had just been stolen from the death. Eighteen months that soon would be taken back. It would have been better if nobody survived. Turning the sheets around, turning my pillow around so everything looked normal, I decided it was the time to wander around. 

He would search for me, and he would find me. At first I wanted to accuse him of everything he did me wrong, to tell him all the ways I had killed him and had enjoyed it. But it would be more fun to pretend I had no memory of him. It was also something that fitted better within the plan. Lying on top of a couch in the library, pretending to read the book on my lap. I had fooled them all, I might also fool him. Pretending to read the first page of Romeo and Juliet.   
“Cannibals are outside to eat you all, and you wonder if there is conditioner at the bunker?” Eyebrows raised, he’s wearing the smirk I know so well. But in this life I don’t know that smile, in this life I have never heard of Michael Langdon. I wonder why he is so playful, I thought he would start a bit more dramatic, killing me when he had me alone. Or at least ask me why I was still alive. 

“Haven’t we all died in here already?” I pull my legs of the couch, sitting straight. It isn’t really hard to act like nothing happened, it is scary easy that it doesn’t take any effort at all. “And why would you say that?” He strides over to me, long legs wrapped in expensive looking pants. In the years I haven’t seen him, his sense for fashion had definitely grown. Wearing red eyeshadow, making his blue eyes pop out even more. God, he is so extra. With him sitting next to me like that, it almost feels like nothing had changed. It feels like how it was before he went off to wizard school. “It feels like every moment is borrowed, as if we should have died. And in truth I think that is what should have happened.” I don’t lie to him, it is how I would have felt if I paid my way in. Maybe it is because I already died once, and only came back to life with a purpose.   
“And yet you are still here, and not outside killed by those savages.” Cocking his head to the right, eyes more intense. I let his words sink in, would I have killed myself if I weren’t in this situation? I probably would. If nothing had happened, I would have missed him so much, would even miss my parents. But I also know I might would have some hope for Michael to return, for him to come back to me. “Maybe if I hadn’t someone to wait for, I would be.” Something is changing in his eyes, the coldness flooding away. A fire relit, did I just play myself? 

“What is it what you are waiting for?” He is leaning in closer, as if he is afraid to miss my words if he is not close enough. I lean in closer also, the tips of our noses are almost touching. “Weren’t you supposed to interrogate Mr. Gallant first?” I lean back, satisfied with the confused look he wears for a couple seconds. He looks amused then, leaning back. “Do you know who I am?” I stand up, looking down on him. “That’s kind of a weird question. Didn’t you introduce yourself to everyone here? Langdon, the man who represents the cooperative?” I take a step back, putting the book I was pretending to read on the table.  
“You are right, I just needed to know if you remembered.” There is a distance look in his eyes, almost as if he is trying to find something he can’t find. My face is as blank as I can get it, still looking down. “You just arrived, how could I already forget?” I ask him, when the staring is getting too awkward. “You might be surprised with the things people forget.” He is standing up, coming closer again. Hands reaching for my shoulders. I allow him to touch me, allow him to get closer. Allow myself to have this one thing for myself. I expect him to lean in and kiss me, expect him to tell me he loves me. But instead he lets me go. A soft look in his eyes, realer then all the looks he ever gave me in my heaven or hell. “We will take this conversation further during the interview.” I can’t help it, it reminds me so much of the past, it is all in the way he looks at me. It kind of feels like falling in love with him all over again. It feels like having secret naughty daydreams about him, it feels like drinking tea with too much sugar. “I can’t wait, Michael.” 

Five minutes later I am still staring at the door he walked out. He seemed so different form the boy I knew, even more different then when he went to his school. Did he know I know who he is? Did he just play along because he wanted to make me feel less cautious around him, so it would be easier to kill me? Or did he really believe me, did he really think I did not know who he was. That thought offends me only a little bit. As if I could ever forget him, as if he would not be on my mind ever again. I walk out, not wanting to be seen by someone. Maybe he had also forgotten about me, he acted like the Michael I knew, the Michael I loved. Would he really act like that with someone he killed? Were the things I thought to see in his face just the work of my own hope? That I meant something, that he was happy to see me? Shaking my head to exorcise the thoughts out of my head. It wouldn’t matter if he loved me or not, I had a mission. 

Mindless I open the door to enter my room. Debating if I should wash the sheets right now, or tomorrow morning before breakfast. I am way too exhausted from the lying, way too exhausted from the feelings that never really went away. Closing the door, turning around to look at my bed. My breathe coming out way too fast, I am literally jumping up from the surprise, for my bed is not empty. Sitting on the white sheets, hands hovering over the bloody parts, legs crossed and a dangerous look in his eyes, is Michael.   
“I am going to ask you this question once, and only once. Be honest with me, I will know when you tell lies.” I was never afraid of him, but the way he speaks to me right now gives me goosebumps, makes my neck feel stiff, and makes me want to run away. Right now he is the boy I thought would never like his tea sweet, the boy from whom I thought liked it dark. I nod, taking a step towards the bed. I feel trapped like a mouse, there is no way out. I can’t tell him the truth if he questions me about the witches. Will I die then?   
“Why did you leave me?” And out of all the questions he could ask, this was the one I least expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this series really turned out way longer than i intended it to be. I think there will be around 3/4 more chapters.


	9. no angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An explanation happens.

I am physically taken back by his question, my brows rising up, my body slightly leaning back in confusing. Was he for real? Why did I leave him? What did he think would have happened when I was killed, I would wake up smiling the next day? “Uh, maybe because I died? Usually you don’t come back when someone kills you.”   
If I was confused with his question, he is even more confused with my answer. “Died?” It feels like my eyebrows are trying hard to raise even higher than they already are. “Don’t act all confused, you were there when they slit my throat. Kill your darlings, leave it all behind to go forward.” Getting angry from the confusion on his face, I step closer to the bed. “Don’t act all stupid, when I told you I wanted to leave, you… You and they knew what to do.” Unconsciously my hand had went up my neck, touching were it once had bled.   
“I could never kill you…” He whispers, his skin turning pale. I sit down next to him, not understanding the tone of his voice. Why does he act all confused, why did he have to be like this? “No, you let Mead do it instead.” Crossing my arms, sitting up more straight. I was certain he wouldn’t kill me here and now. It truly seemed he was shocked with what I told. “She told me you left, you had stolen your parents’ money, and your passport was missing. She told me you ran off to Europe.” He is facing me now, the ghost of the tears that must have been shed so many years ago still in his eyes. “She told me you said you never wanted to see me again.” I feel pity for him, if it was true. Yet another woman who had left him, yet another woman, who he loved, telling him he was not enough. Against my better judgement I grab his hand, squeezing it, trying not to cry for the broken boy he must have been. “I was running away from them, yes. But it was never because of you, I wanted to take the first flight to any random country in Europe. The only reason I didn’t tell you what I was about to do, was because you would have stopped me.” Feeling bold, I stroke his blonde hair back, watching how his whole expression changes. Suddenly he looks so much younger, nothing like the evil he is. “I would have called you when I landed, do you really think I wanted nothing to do with you? Do you really think that I didn’t meant it when I told you I would love you till the end of days?” The look he gives me tells me enough, yes he did, he did not believe me. 

“How could you think I would kill you?” His voice hoarse, his hand squeezing my hand now. “I was drugged, I saw you there, like four of you. And if my own parents would kill me, why wouldn’t you?” He nods, turning his attention to the blood stained sheets. I see his mouth opening for a question, but I am faster. “How did you know that I knew who you were? Am I that easy to read?”   
A laugh escaping him, he pushes his hair back. “I didn’t know until you said my name, my first name.” I roll my eyes, ofcourse, it was stupid. I didn’t even notice it. It feels weird to talk with him like this, with kind of everything out of the way. He didn’t kill me, I didn’t leave him. It should have changed everything, but it changes nothing. He may not have been the one to kill me, but I was killed anyway. And the end of the world is horrible, I do not wish this upon the human race, no matter how terrible they might are. There are always good people, there are always people who are worth living for. “Would this have happened if we left everything behind together?” I ask him, hoping for him to give me the right answer. He is silent for a while, his index finger tapping against his lips. “I don’t know, things would have been different, I think that is the only thing that is sure.” His eyes finding my eyes again, he is leaning in. His arms wrapped around my body. I lean into him, finding rejoice in his embrace. He gave me the right answer. If we had been together everything would have been different, if he had felt the light, saw the goodness the world had to offer, things would have been different. “Did you search for me?” My head resting on his shoulder, I don’t want to face him yet. “Yes, but I could not find you.” Letting him go, leaning back to get a good look at his expression. “It wasn’t heaven where I was, but it also wasn’t hell because you were there with me. The only thing that made it hell was the numbness.” There is something of hope on his face, a smile starting to grow. “Even when you thought I killed you, you wanted me there?” I lean in, as if I am going to kiss him, lips slightly parted. But I don’t kiss him, I don’t want him to have hope. I am almost touching the lobe of his ear with my mouth, whispering I tell him, “The only time I felt something was when I killed you. Everyday again, I would find you, love you and then after kill you. Your blood dripping off my naked body, seeing the life fade away from your eyes.” Speaking slowly, with the voice of a lover. He does not answer me, his right hand going up to my neck. His mouth near my earlobe. “Did it give you the release you crave?” His voice is a low whisper that gives me goosebumps. “Did you enjoy it, giving in to the darkness?” Closing my eyes, his breathe flowing over my skin makes it hard for me to give him a witty answer. “Killing you was only fulfilling because you would come back anyway.” I can’t help it to tell the truth. His mouth going down to my neck, a soft kiss pressed against the pulse there. “Then it really sounds how heaven should be like.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a bit more smut again in the chapters to come.


	10. try me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter contains some lyrics of the weeknd. It also contains some light smut again.   
> It's quit a lengthy chapter also, but I think it is better to read this as a whole then in two separate chapters.

He had a plan, but I don’t really know what it is. A couple days had gone by, and it was as if our conversation had not happened. I pretended to not know him, he pretended to be in control. Maybe he was in control, maybe had known all along who brought me back. I did not tell him, but he also didn’t ask for it. He thought he had killed all the witches, maybe he just thought I was brought back before all of that. With the supposedly calm death of Evie, everyone seemed to be a bit more uptight. The end is coming, everyone felt it. I hadn’t noticed that Mead stood before me. Every time I see her it is hard to not remember that she was the one who killed me. Maybe if I weren’t killed we wouldn’t be sitting here. But who knows, destiny is a funny thing.  
“Venable calls for you.” Brusque as ever she takes a hold of my hand. Pulling me off the couch, a mad gleam in her eye. “You don’t have to take me there as if I am a child.” Pulling my hand out of her grip. Robot or not, it would be so good to watch her burn. It would feel so good to light the match that would kill her for the second time. Entertaining myself with the fantasy of her burning in front of me, I walk with her to the office. 

Sitting in front of the woman I manipulated so well, I know she has something upon her sleeve. Apples, colored so red they seem sinful, are lying on top of her desk. “A gift, from the cooperative.” I narrow my eyes, apples, this has Michael his sense of humor all written over it. “For your good work?” I ask, trying to sound as innocent as I can. “No, for all of us. Ms. Mead and I will organize a feast for Halloween.” Smiling, taking her hands. “You are so generous, we don’t deserve it.” There is a slight smile on her face. “You all deserve it.” I smile, letting my hands wander over her arms, fingers sliding over the rough fabric of her dress. She is leaning in closer also, her tongue slipping out of her mouth, wetting her lips. I am sure of it that she wants to kiss me. Craves my attention, a craving for my touch. I lean in closer, ready to give her what she wants. A spell between the two of us, lips that are almost touching. A door slams open, the moment is broken. Venable her cheeks turn a rosy pink. Wearing a Cheshire smile on my face, I turn around to face our intruder. “Hi, Mr. Langdon.” I say, innocent as ever.   
“Am I interrupting something?” His brows are slightly raised, an amused look in his eyes. “No, not at all. She was just leaving.” Venable answers, her cheeks finally turning back to the original color. I stand up, walking towards the door. Brushing my shoulder against his when I pass by. “Goodbye, Ms. Venable, Mr. Langdon.” I am still wearing my smile, closing the door behind me. This went even better than I expected it to happen. Michael his timing really was perfect. A tease for his mind, let him wonder why I do what I do. 

In the library I find Mr. Gallant sitting alone, a sad look on his handsome face. “I just had the most awkward encounter ever.” I begin, sitting next to him. The look in his eyes brightens. “Tell me.” I lean back into the couch. “I was with Venable at her office, and then Mr. Langdon came in. She dismissed me immediately. She low-key looked scared of him, but also looked low-key horny for him. What do you think?” Watching him react to my words are very funny. First he gets kind of excited, and then the excitement seems to change in something different. Jealousy, maybe. “I think everyone in here wants to fuck him.” Gallant is back to his old self again, no jealousy left. I lean in closer, as if I don’t want anyone to hear us. “Do you think he is a good fuck? He definitely likes control, but will he also be like that in the bedroom?” A laugh escapes Mr. Gallant. “He is definitely a top.” I laugh with him, Michael likes to be in control yes, but above that all he likes a strong personality. You can’t really ever dominate a person like him, but with me he always liked it better when I took control. “And you are a bottom?” I ask in return. Gallants laugh is harder now. “Isn’t it obvious?” I lean into him, taking his hand. “Are you okay, with everything that happened?” He leans into me, stroking my hand softly in return. “I will be okay, eventually.” There is hope in his voice, and I envy him for it. I wish I had hope for a better future, hope for something more. I had hoped, hoped for a future with Michael, but the world is not a friendly place. “You deserve to be loved.” I tell him, “We all deserve to be loved.” 

He is leaning back in his chair, perfectly styled as always. A calculating look in his eyes, I wait for him to start the conversation. It was my turn to be interviewed. My turn for a chance to live my life a little bit longer. Or at least that is what they thought I was here for. “They all seem to really like you in here.” He finally breaks the silence, the tone of his voice reveals nothing. “What do you mean?” Playing dumb to break him a little bit more. I like to watch him think, like to watch him try to find reasons for why things are happening. “Oh, come one, from the love craving Gallant to the ever boring Venable.” My arms leaning on the desk, a playful tone to my voice. “Are you jealous?” I know he is not, why would he be jealous, he never was. He stands up, walking around the desk, stopping behind me. Both his hands resting on my shoulders. I keep looking forward. “I don’t know, are you?” I smile, pushing my head against his stomach, chin rising, looking up to his amused form. “I heard you’re a top now.” This makes him laugh, stepping back from the chair, letting go of my shoulders. His hands going to his hair to push it back, behind his shoulders. I stand up also, turning around to lean against his desk. Watching the laughter in his eyes, it makes me feel a bit too good. How am I supposed to end him when he is making me feel all kinds of things again? How can I kill him off when I love him so much? 

“You know how I like control.” He is sitting on the chair where I sat. I am still leaning against his desk. “You know I also do.” My hands are straightening the awful dress I am wearing. A darker shade of purple, with too much lace on the top. It irritates my skin, but the other dress was dirty. The tension in the room had shifted again, where it first was playful it is now darker. I remember our first time, how it had felt like our love turned from pink to purple. If our love was a color, what kind of color would it be now? Dark red, so dark is almost looks black? Or is it white, for a new start? “I got them thinking that they want me.” I tell him, trying to continue how the conversation started. “I let them embrace their sins.” I sit myself at the desk, the motion makes my dress go up. “Do you embrace your sins?” He is sitting more straight now, attention fully on me now. “All the time.” Whispering, my hands going down, to grab the desk. The look he gives me wants me to make me sin right now. Wants me to pull him out of his chair, want me to make him push him down on his knees. He is standing up, placing himself between my legs. As if he is hearing my dirty thoughts, as if he knows it all. “Tell me about your sins.” 

“In my youth, there was this boy I liked. He was very pretty, but also very different from me.” His hand is going into my hair, pulling my head a bit back. He is not rough, it is almost a bit desperate. “Tell me more.” My hand is grabbing his shoulder, pulling him closer to me. “He was my neighbor. I remember sitting for tea with my mother and his adoptive mother. Eating scones with strawberry jam, drinking my tea with too much sugar. I remember thinking about him, remember wondering what kind of persons he might like.” I place my other hand on his shoulder. “I remember wondering how it would be like for him to love me. How it would be like to have my hands in his hair, for him to go down, down, down, to where I wanted him so bad.” His breathing is getting faster. He must remember it also, must have seen the red stains on the white of the dress. “I spilled the jam before I could really finish my fantasy. I kind of felt dirty for thinking thoughts like that in front of my mother. But is also felt really good, it felt so good to think about him there.” 

“Did he make you feel good?” His hands are on my back, just above my ass. I cup his face, bringing it closer to mine. Lips slightly parted, there is lust in his eyes. “He gave me the best feelings.” And I kiss him then. Soft at first, getting used to the familiarity of the feeling it gives me. Letting my tongue slip in, not wanting to fight for control. Our kisses at times had been rough, had been soft. But the kisses were best when they were equal. His hair is really soft, slipping through my fingers like it is silk. We are only kissing, but it makes me burn everywhere. Makes me want to moan, makes me want to push my hand or his hand between my tights. His mouth is leaving mine, a disappointed sound unwillingly escapes me. I feel him smile against my skin, his mouth going lower. Sucking at different places in my neck, going down to my collarbone. Placing kisses there, going lower once again to kiss the outline of the dress. Then he drops on his knees, a wicked smile playing on his mouth. His hand wrapping around my right ankle, pulling it over his shoulder. Kissing the other ankle, going up over my leg. Kissing, licking, sometimes biting. Until his head disappeared under the dress. It feels weird to not see him, but only feel him. Going up, both my legs over his shoulders. Kissing the inside of my tights. My moans making his kisses only sloppier. If somebody walks in, it would be quit a funny sight. I try to imagine Venable coming in, seeing Michael on his knees, his head disappearing between my legs. My flushed skin, moans coming from my throat. All the thoughts are gone when I feel his hand between my legs, pushing through the fabric of my underwear. His other hand pulling it down then. His hot breathe there makes me grab the edge of the desk forcefully, his mouth there, his tongue teasing. His fingers there where his mouth isn’t. A curse coming from my mouth. He is going way too slow, way too soft. “Stop, teasing, please, I need…” I can’t finish my sentence, as his fingers go inside me. Finding a good spot. Rather roughly pumping in and out. It does not take me long to come, his name on my lips, my hands still holding on to the desk. He kisses both my tights again, before coming back. His mouth wet from his work, smelling like me. I kiss him, his hair is a mess. I taste myself on his tongue, feeling the area around my mouth getting wet also. He leans back to watch me, his hands still holding my head. There is something possessive in the way he does it, it creates possessive feelings for myself as well. I am his, he is mine. It never really changed, yet everything has changed. “You’re the best I ever had.” He tells me, “Making me have thoughts I never had.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are from: try me & acquainted


	11. evol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To lie beside my romeo, oh what a wicked way to go.

I let Gallant swing me around the room, my dress wildly spinning with me. Laughter fills up the ever sober room. Dancing to the music we have heard so many times before. Halloween had finally come upon us. My gut told me something was going to happen, something dark and important. His plan was coming to an end, which meant that also my own plan was coming to an end. I had three people to visit this night, I just didn’t know who I would visit first. The apples are lying in a bucket. For us to get with our mouth. I was not going to do that, I am not stupid. There must be something wrong with the apples. Either the apples or the water is filled with poison. I let go of Gallants hand, sending him an apologetic smile. He will die tonight, they all will. It makes me feel bad for them, but only a little bit. “I don’t feel so good.” I tell him, pretending to be unsteady. Watching Ms. Mead and Venable standing with the apples, I now know who I will visit first. Walking towards the woman who almost kissed me the other day, I try to look as weak as possible. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Venable, but I will be heading to bed. I don’t feel so well.” She only looks a bit concerned. “Take an apple with you.” She nods in Meads direction. I take the apple she gives me. “Thank you.” I turn around, walking away from the two of them. Holding the apple in my right hand. When I pass Gallant I give him a smile. Telling him to enjoy the party. Not telling him it will be the last. 

I only feel a bit guilty when I lay down into my bed. Placing the apple on the nightstand. I will not destroy it yet. It feels like forever for the door of my room to turn open. I was waiting for one of them to come. I knew they would come for me when the rest of them died. Venable’s love for me was enough to give me the mercy of being killed in my sleep. Or so she thought. It is Mead who is standing in the door. A gun in her right hand. I sit up straight, watching her come in my room. “I never liked you, I don’t really understand why Venable does.” A smile forming on my lips. She points the gun at my head. “Why didn’t you just eat the apple?” She looks at the untouched fruit. I grab it, bringing it to my face. “Why don’t you?” I ask back. Gliding out of the bed, walking towards here. The gun is still pointed at my face, her tired eyes are narrowed. “Don’t you remember me? I know you want to.” I place my hand over the hand that is holding the gun. I know she remembers me, but she just doesn’t know me. “I know you remember him, our beautiful blonde boy.” Her eyes are turning bigger, confusing growing bigger with every word I say. “Do you know who he is?” She asks. There is something vulnerable in the way she speaks. It must be the part that made her kind of a good mother to Michael. The part that actually had loved Michael for Michael and not for the Antichrist he is. “You could say we were acquainted.” I pull the gun out of her hand. This seems to bring her back to her senses. “Give that back.” She is the robot again. Shaking my head, I tuck the gun away in my dress. “You won’t kill me a second time, Miriam.” Placing my hand on her cheek, watching her memories come back to her. “You were so close to him all this time without knowing it, and now you will never be close to him again.” I take a step back, pulling the gun out. “You will never see him again. Not the real you and not this robot you.” I take a step closer again. “Who are you, why can’t I remember you?” Ofcourse I wasn’t programmed into her system, Michael would have never talked about me again. Not after he thought what I did to him. “If I shoot this bullet through your eye you will not be killed, but you will be shut down.” I am too close to miss, we both know it. “Lie down on the bed.” She does as I tell her. The panic is rising in her eyes, there is no way out. Tying her down with rope, I watch her struggle. “You killed me in your first life.” I tell her then. Picking up the candle that stood beside the bed, I set her dress on fire. It burns slow, but I have the time. It is much worse than the first time she burned. It had been fast, due to the gasoline. I had no gasoline here, nothing to speed up the process. And it goes slow, until it goes not. I keep on watching, watching till I can’t see anything. Until there is only smoke. Until all I could smell was burning plastic. The robot did not scream, it just shut down. She only looked scared, a fear in the eyes that looked so much like the real ones. I had never seen fear in the real ones eyes, an emotion the woman not really showed. Burning her does not give the satisfaction I crave, does not give me the feeling I wanted. Instead I feel numb, feeling the heat on my skin, but at the same time I feel nothing at all. My moments were stolen from death, the death that will claim me again. 

I leave the room, where the fire still burns. I must smell like the smoke, must smell like death. Walking through the hallways, finding my way to Venable her office. 

Venable is sitting in the chair in front of the fire. She must have been waiting for Ms. Mead to return. I did not go to the others, did not want to see their dead bodies. I close the door with a soft click. She immediately turns around, a welcoming smile on her face. “Ah, Ms. Mead, did you do-“ She stops when she sees it is me who came in. “Do what?” Carrying the apple in my left hand, the gun is still tucked into my dress. “Oh, punish a grey.” She saves herself well, if I didn’t just kill Mead I would have believed her. “I wanted to know if you wanted to share my apple.” I sit in the chair that is supposed to be Meads. Holding the apple out for her. “Take a bite.” I tell her. “No it is yours, I already had one of my own.” A nervous smile on her lips, her eyes darting between me and the door. I bring the apple to my lips, smelling it. It smells like nothing, being preserved to perfectly for it to rot. “Funny, Ms. Mead also didn’t want to share.” I pull the gun out with my right hand. Pointing it at her head. I see the shock wash over her face. Her hand grabbing the stick she needs to walk. I laugh softly, loving her fear. “Where is she?” I have to give her credit for how calm she still sounds. “I burned her to ash.” I tell her without blinking. “Don’t you smell the smoke on me?”  
I put the safety off the gun, watching her swallow. “Why would you kill me, don’t you love me?”  
Still smiling, I lean in closer. “You really were easy to manipulate, your craving for recognition really was your downfall.” And I shoot, her blood spatting all over my face. I feel nothing, nothing but the irritation that my face is dirty. It will be terrible to wash it out of the clothing I am wearing. Swiping the blood that drips over my lips away, I stand up. Still holding the apple, only a bit of her blood had fallen on the fruit. 

When I open the door to his room, he turns around immediately. Closing the laptop so I can’t see what he was doing. He looks surprised to see me. He clearly did not expect me to come here. His blue eyes finding the untouched apple in my hand, then the blood that is still wet on my face. “Were you watching porn or something? I never saw someone close a laptop that casually before.” He cocks his eyebrow, his arm leaning on the desk. “Where are Venable and Mead?” I close the door behind me, stepping to the middle of the room. “If the blood on my face isn’t obvious enough, I shot Venable her brains out.” It kind of bores me, playing this game with him. “And I also burned the robot woman, she probably is still smoking out on my bed. Or maybe the whole room is on fire, that might be even better. I imagine that is how those Satanist believe hell would be like.” I throw the apple up in the air, catching it with my right hand. He does not say a thing, but I see the anger growing, see the way the blue in his eyes turn darker. “Did you really think I was brought back without a reason, Michael?” I do another step towards him. “Do you really think Cordelia would let you kill half her coven without planning your demise in return?” A mean laugh escapes him, his hands stroking his hair. “And you are supposed to be the cause of my death?” I shake my head, laying the apple down on the table.  
“As if you can kill me anyway.” He spits the words out as if it supposed to hurt me. The smile I wear is sad. “I wish you had ran away with me back then.” 

I sit down on his bed, he is watching me, the apple in his hand. “Are you going to kill me?” I ask him. I watch him stand up, the look in his eyes in unreadable. “I think I need to.” I swallow, watching him get closer and closer till he sits next to me. I lean against him, trying to think about nothing but the way he smells. If I am about to die, I rather have it by his hands. I look up, to already see him looking down at me. “Will you love me one last time?” He kisses me first, leans in first as it always had happened. And I kiss him as if it is the last time it happens. It will be the last time it happens. He is pushing me down, crawling on top of me. Kissing my neck, his lips turning red with the blood that is still on me. Soft touches, loving kisses. His hands tearing apart the lace of the dress, exposing my breasts. And it feels as sweet as dying ever did. His tongue tracing a path around my hardened nipple, his hand grabbing my other breast. A soft moan escaping me, my breathing uneven. Sucking softly at exposed skin, slowly going down. Shredding the dress off me, as result I am fully naked. It feels like our first time, the way he kisses my stomach. And if I close my eyes I can pretend it is, I can pretend we are back in his old room. I can pretend we are both a bit tipsy. I can pretend to be young and innocent, can pretend that it is all we ever known. 

And having sex with him does feel like that. Does feel fulfilling, does feel like going back to happier memories. My hands scratching his back, not really leaving marks. We were always good when we were together. Always better as a pair. And I come before he does, and I only cry a little bit for the feeling of being happy had felt too foreign. I want us to be happy, want us to have a chance. But it won’t be possible. 

After, watching him just lie next to me gives me flashbacks to the last time he was in that position. It had been in my heaven or hell. I had killed him there. I am not sure if I would be able to kill him here. The apple he had been holding is lying between the two of us now. I reach for it, one hand in front of me, one hand behind my back. He studies me, watch how I bring the apple to my face. “I lied.” I say then, my fingers closing around the gun behind my back. “About what?” I take a bite from the apple. Feeling some pleasure in the sweet taste, it tastes like the sweet rotting taste that is death. “I am here to kill you.” And I shoot, once, twice and finally thrice. Three holes, two in his head and one in his heart. His eyes are still open, the shock still visible in them. Taking hold of his hand, feeling the poison work. I can’t breathe, choking on my spit, I reach for my neck out of instinct. Trying to survive out of instinct. My brain is shutting off due to the lack of oxygen. My eyes closing, as if I am going to sleep. A long, dreamless sleep. Dying had been as sweet as the apple, as sweet as the boy I loved. Dying covered in his blood. What a wicked way to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry 
> 
> There will be an epilogue tho.


	12. revival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am sucker for happy endings. I haven't watched the last episode yet, but i am happy i wrote this end looking at the spoilers.

I wake up gasping for air. For a moment I don’t know where I am or what waked me up. It takes a couple seconds for me to realize that the annoying sound I hear buzzing is my alarm. I wish you had ran away with me. A voice that sounds like mine, but is nothing like my own fades away. I am in my bed, in my room. Yellow light from the morning sun shining through a creak in the curtains. The dream I had is vague, but still there. I need to get Michael. 

Walking downstairs, my backpack full of the things I need to get away. “Don’t you want some breakfast?” I hear them ask. I ignore them, they don’t really deserve an explanation. Going outside, walking straight through my parents garden, walking straight through my neighbors garden. Knocking on Ms. Meads front door. She opens with tired eyes, it is still early. I don’t even greet her, just walk past her. Pushing her against the wall in the progress. Running upstairs, pushing the door to his room open in one swift motion. He is still lying in his bed. One leg on top of the sheets, his hair a mess. I wait for a couple seconds, adoring the way how sweet he looks. “Michael.” My hands shaking his bare shoulders. “Wake up baby, we need to leave right now.” I hear them coming up the stairs, hear their mumbling. He slowly opens his eyes, a smile on his face when he sees it is me. Walking back to the door, locking it down. He is sitting straight up now, still a sleepy look on his face. “They’re coming for me, they’re going to kill me.” Someone knocks on the door. “What, why would they do that?” I look around the room, picking up some of his clothes. Throwing it on his bed. “Michael, do you trust me?” He is putting the sweater on, now he looks confused. “Ofcourse I do.” I sigh, putting some clothing he might needs in a backpack. “Then don’t question me, just follow me, okay?” Eyebrows raised, pulling his pants up. “Okay, but will you tell me what the fuck is going on?” The knocking on the door gets louder. I hear my parents voices. “They’re going to kill me, I dreamt about it. They put poison in the sugar, they are going to kill me so you won’t have any distractions anymore.” I feel myself getting panicked, feeling tears well up in my eyes. He is with me only a second later. His arms around me, stroking over my arms. “I will never let anyone harm you, never.” There is fire in his words. And I know it is the truth. “That’s why we need to leave.” I give him his backpack. Swiping the tears from my cheeks. “Do you have a passport?”   
“Yeah it is downstairs, though.” He is walking towards the door. His hand on the handle, looking backwards. “Are you sure?” He asks. With two steps I stand beside him. “Yes, are you?” His answer is him pushing the door open. His hand pressed against my stomach, holding me back. “What is going on here?” He sounds like the evil he is supposed to be now. Something strong in his voice, if I were on the other side of him I would have been scared. “Michael, we are not here for you but for her.” Mead nods in my direction. “I don’t think so.” Is his answer, his hand grabs mine hand, pulling me closer. What happens next leaves both me and Michael in shock. My mother pulls out a gun, not pointing it at Michael but at me. “I am sorry, but she needs to be gone.” I can’t believe it, can’t believe that my own mother would try to kill me. My hand is squeezing his hand too hard, but he does not seem to notice. “I don’t think so.” He repeats, there is something changing in the tension. It’s getting cold, a cold air wavering through the house. “Put the gun down.” My mother only stares at me. Gun not lowering, it all seems to go in slow motion then, her finger pulling the trigger, the wave of Michael’s hand. Blood coming from their noses, the three of them falling down at the same time. Shocked I look at their bloody faces, they’re not moving. It all happened so sudden. The gun is lying on the ground next to my mother her head. “Are… Are they dead?”   
He shakes his head. “No, I will never kill my Mead.” I look down on their bodies. “I wish they died.” I tell him. “Come one, let’s go.” He pulls me away from them, taking the lead. Downstairs he gets a couple things from the kitchen. Taking my hand when we leave the house. Neither of us look back, we don’t speak. Driving Ms. Mead’ car to the airport. Stopping in the parking lot, I watch him watch me. “Why did you believe me when I told you about my dream?” He takes my hand, blue eyes unreadable. “Because I had one of my own.” 

 

~ ~ ~ ~

His hand is in mine, running over the white sand of the beach. Tasting the salt in the wind, hearing the rough waves crashing into land. The sky is as grey as the sea. The grey beautifully fades away in the white of the sand. This is where I am happy, this is where I feel loved. Us, a contrast of bright colors in a world of neutrals. Our dog already had ran towards the seashore. Water too rough for him to swim in it. It is the end of the summer, autumn waiting for the leaves to fall. The beach is where I feel calm. Even on windy days like these, it feels good to be here. We both are smiling, watching the blonde dog biting the water that comes too close. It feels a lifetime ago, running away from it all. It was another life for the both of us. A destiny unfilled, but a heart filled with love. It was easy to stop looking over our shoulders in time, it was easy to forget we used to wear other names.   
There might be other dangers on the lure, situations that can’t be foreseen. I let go of his hand, walking towards the sea. Calling for the dog, letting my hands wander through his fur. There are dreams filled with burning, dreams filled with poisonous apples. Dreams filled with murder and dreams filled with love. But dreams are never real, just a mechanism to cope with feelings your brain does not want to comprehend during the day. Our days are longer then the nights, our life filled with more light then darkness. This is the life I had always wanted for us, the life he deserved. 

And it was so easy to forget our real selves, it was so easy to forget to look over our shoulders. It was easy to become comfortable in the life we lived. As if it never had been different. His hand around my middle, he is also watching the sea. Sharing the same thoughts. “We did the right thing.” I tell him for maybe the tenth time since our escape. He nods, always wearing the same confident smile. “We did indeed.” 

And loving him is so easy, being normal with him is so easy. It is so easy to fight with him over stupid things in the beginning (“What, the only thing you can make is cereal?”) to more serious issues in the end. (“You have to trust me, I won’t leave you.”) And years later there are children who look like him, but more like me. Years later I watch him play with them in our garden, chasing after the youngest one. And years later we never thought once of coming back, years later we’ve realized home was each other. 

And we make other connections, make space in our hearts to love other people. And it is all okay, it is all normal. Nothing weird really happens. Drinking our tea with too much sugar, both liking things better when they are sweet. A child in his lap, a child sleeping in my lap. 

Kissing him when we’re alone, telling him I love him every chance I get. Dancing on lazy Sundays, swimming in the sea when it’s the summer. There will be another one, will be another chance for evil. But it never really was in Michael, not with the goodness life had brought us. Everyone has something good and something bad within them. There is no such thing as heaven or hell, because it already is here on earth. You only truly live during your life. What comes after doesn’t really matter. And that is all I keep in mind when I watch him sleep next to me. That everything is okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, the kudos and comments. This has been the longest story in English i ever wrote lol. 
> 
> Thanks, again <3

**Author's Note:**

> Pfoo this came out of nowhere actually. I might add more chapters for it deserves a bit more backstory and an end.


End file.
